On My Own
by AvyJC15
Summary: {Infinite Pre-prequel Short Story} Ayden Jaubert is pushed past her breaking point, and it almost seems she has nothing left to live for. Will she survive the endless turmoil that seems to be her life?
1. The only thing I ever asked

**The only thing I ever asked...**

It was the eleventh of July, in 2011. A Monday. She was in downtown. It was quiet for a Monday in downtown. Usually, it was a lot noisier, especially since it was nearing the end of lunchtime and everyone was rushing back to their jobs or going back to the university. That, and it was summer. Barely anyone attended a summer semester, so the area was mostly crowded with businessmen, and pedestrians hanging out in groups of friends or family. Maybe it was because she was in a much more isolated area, where buildings considered 'medical' were grouped apart from the rest.

Where the 'sick' people go.

The session she was currently in, at 1:45 past noon, was just like she expected it to be. The psychiatrist would speak very little yet a lot. He would ask a lot of questions, yet each one of them was either the same, if not simpler than the previous one, all containing about, at least, five to eight words. It was enough to make the client spill every little detail about their life, though. Enough to make them comfortable knowing that it was all about them and no one would know but the psychiatrist. No one would know of your problems but him.

Your secret was safe.

But she didn't go to reveal her life to a psychiatrist. No. She went, only seeking guidance. That and some of her teachers back at school recommended her talking to someone as she seemed very empty and cold lately, especially throughout her oral presentations. Someone who seeks to become a lawyer in the future needs to learn how to be indifferent when defending a case, but they shouldn't be cold and empty. They should be neutral and understanding, but that side of her seemed to have disappeared. She was told that if she talked to someone, she would surely get better.

Everyone gets better with a little bit of guidance.

She didn't want to speak to her teachers about her problem, though. It would undoubtedly go on her permanent record, becoming a huge rash on any future reference she'd unlikely get for a future job. No one would want to hire someone with problems of any sort. She couldn't talk to her mother even if she wanted to; they never spoke as it is. You'd think they would, considering their rooms are right across from each other, but, ever since her father passed away, her mother had become distant. They never spoke a word to each other unless it was to pass on the salt at supper or to ask if there was still any milk at breakfast. They were like two strangers living together.

It was the same with her brother. The day he started high school, he never paid her as much attention as he did when they were both still in elementary school. He had completely left his little sister behind to fend for herself, and though she silently told herself she'd forgiven him for that, a part of her never really did. Her closest friends were still high school in the year they were meant to be, while she was a fifteen-year-old in college. Though unusual yet remarkable, she couldn't count on them to guide her back into the right path; they hadn't been around her long enough to know what problems she'd gotten herself into. Her ex-boyfriend was in prison, and there was no way she was turning that way for guidance since it was that path that made her stray in the first place. Her current boyfriend had decided to go MIA, and his family, though extremely religious as his father was a Reverend, wouldn't really help her. They would just try to get her to rejoin a Catholic Church group and go to meetings where they talk about God and such. Now, don't get her wrong; she loves God, but a Bible wasn't going to help her right now.

Her next best bet was a psychiatrist. Her first session had gone quite well; of course, she didn't reveal anything about her life, which was quite upsetting for Dr. Gagnon. She barely spoke, yet when she did, it was vague or riddled, so he opted for asking her the simple questions and let her answer on her own, studying more of her body language and taking notes of it; sometimes actions spoke more than words, but she was still hard to read. He would probably have to give her some time, it was only their second session after all.

"What do you think?" he asked her quietly.

"I think― I think when it's all over, it just comes back in flashes, you know?" She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "It's like a kaleidoscope of memories, it just all comes back." She swallowed hard. "But he never does."

"What makes you say that?"

Biting her lip for a moment, she said, "I... I guess you can say that part of me already knew, when I saw him, that it would happen."

"Did he say something to―"

"No," she interrupted, subconsciously quickly. "It... it's not really anything he said or anything he did..."

"Then what was it?"

She thought for a moment, choosing her words correctly. "It was the feeling that came along with it. A feeling I... I don't know if I'm ever gonna feel again."

He straightened on his chair; they were getting somewhere. She was speaking more than the first time. "Do you believe you should?"

It was silent for a moment before she replied, "The truth is... I don't know. I don't know if I should." Another deep breath was taken before she proceeded. "I knew his world moved too fast and burned too bright, but..."

_But I just thought, how can the devil be pulling you toward someone who looks so much like an angel when he smiles at you?_ She added silently. _Maybe he knew that when he saw me..._

"What about James?"

Her head snapped up and she stared at the man before her, silent as the precious name rolled down his tongue. It wasn't that Jake didn't mean anything to her anymore because he did. He might've driven her to a breaking point, where James, or Jamie as she liked to call him, saved her, but she still cared for him. She still cared for them both. Jamie might've not hurt her physically either, but the fact that he kept something so big from her... she thought he trusted her, just like she trusted him. After all, he did help her. He—

"He saved me."

"From what?"

Ah. The million-dollar question: from what? _From what?_ Well, from herself.

Jake had driven her crazy at one point, pulling her to engage in all those stunts. There were tender moments, like when he taught her how to dance for the revolutionary dance crew they joined when he gave her a key to his apartment, and when he gave her his mother's bracelet about two weeks after they had started dating...

But he was dangerous.

There was a time when he'd driven her up a hill, on the outskirts of the city, where it looked like a desert as she had told him a while before that she had always wanted to explore a desert, even if there really wasn't much to discover in one... that she had always wanted to see one. They were in his car, and just as he was about to kiss her... just when she was about to get her first kiss, a police officer stopped right behind his car and arrested him. There was also a time where he took her to a club, despite her being fourteen at the time— she was tall for her age and could easily pass for an eighteen-year-old; he'd gotten into a fight, which resulted in both of them being injured.

Her best friend wasn't there for her since he had been sent to the army. The only person who was there was Jamie. A childhood friend and neighbor who'd always been in love with her. After Jake was taken to prison, she was left confused. She had no idea what to do with herself. Yes, she was smart— she was in college rather than in high school like every other kid her age— but after falling into the habit of doing something reckless right after school ended for the day, it was hard to fall out of it. But Jamie helped her, and she had never been happier... until that night.

_"I'm sick," said Jamie, eyes staring blankly out at the Lachine Canal, where the calm waves shone brightly under the moonlit night sky._

_She walked further away from the waiting cab, toward him, and frowned, looking at him. "Then let's get you home. You'll surely feel better by tomorrow." She tried to take his arm, but he shook off her hand and stepped back, wanting to be heard and understood, even if he knew that what he was about to say would break her heart._

_"Carmen..." Her heart seemed to stop as he addressed her by her first name. She didn't like being called by it, that's why she always told people to call her by one of her middle names, mostly Ayden. Of course, her first name always seemed to slip up eventually when something serious was about to be said to her. "I'm sick... with leukemia."_

_She took a step back, eyes wide as she was caught by surprise and shock. She opened her mouth and tried to say something, but nothing came out. Her soul was numb._

_"I found out a while back. I'm not responding to treatment anymore."_

_Her face crumpled with pain and anguish as she looked at him, fighting back an army of tears. "Why didn't you tell me?" she choked out._

_"The doctors said to do everything the same as long as possible." He paused. "I didn't want anyone being— weird around me."_

_"Including me?!"_

_"Especially you!" He looked at her, his own blue eyes watering as they stared into her beautiful brown orbs._

_She stared back at him with disbelief and betrayal clear in her eyes. "I'm an ill person, James. How would that make me treat you any different than the way I do?"_

_He didn't answer._

_She laughed humorlessly, shaking her head in disbelief. "God gives me a lifetime of illnesses, then you. A cruel joke." She got back into the cab, slammed the door shut, and told the driver to go. Jamie stood there, not knowing what to do as she was driven away. He knew he should've told her a long time ago; he didn't want to lose her, but it seemed like he already had._

"What did he save you from?" the question was repeated.

"From myself," she whispered.

"Why do you, or why _did_ you believe you needed saving from yourself?"

She fiddled silently with the sleeves of her big hoodie as she stared down at her worn out sneakers for a moment. "I was used to him."

"Jake?"

She hummed in confirmation. "... I guess it was because I was so used to him that, _in the end_, I just lost my balance."

"Why did you feel so?"

She ran her tongue over her slightly chapped lips before responding. "I... I think it was because of what I believed to be the worst part back then." Pause. "What I may still believe to be the worst part."

"What is it?"

"I..." She swallowed, shutting her lids over her once vibrant brown orbs before opening them and shaking her head. "I think the worst part of it all wasn't losing him." She fought back a few rebellious tears. "It was losing me."

"You feel lost."

"I _felt_ lost," she corrected, eyes distant. "Jamie found me... but I won't stay found for long."

"Why do you believe that?"

She was getting tired of that question. _Why do you believe this? Why do you believe that?_ What was there left to believe in?

She hadn't believed she could ever love until she met Jake. He broke her heart and just when she believed she wouldn't fall again, yet she did.

For her childhood neighbor.

They say that if you love two people, choose the second because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn't have fallen for the second. But the thing is, she had loved Jake and, though she loved Jamie, some part of her still loved Jake as he was her first love. Although it felt as though Jamie was her first love as he really showed he loved her much more than Jake had ever shown, she knew it had been Jake. You never forget or stop loving your first love. You never forget or stop loving the one who brought you out of your shell, the one who helped you discover all fifty shades of yourself. But you never forget or stop loving the one who saved you from drowning in those fifty shades. The one who showed you that you didn't have to be so many different things for someone to love you.

The one who loved you for you.

She looked down at her hands and her head subconsciously hid deeper under the hood of her oversized sweater, a gift from her first best friend ever before he had left for the army. She didn't answer, just shut her eyes when a ray of sunshine pierced through the obese vertical blinds covering the large window in the room.

"I guess that's all for today then, Carm―"

"Ayden," she cut him off. "My name is Ayden."

"Well, then, Ayden, I will see this Thursday."

Absentmindedly, she nodded. "Yeah... Thursday." With that, she got up and rushed out of the room and out the building.

She called Simon on a payphone. Simon was her best friend's uncle and a taxi driver, also one of the only people she trusted and cared for deeply. He came to pick her up and asked her no questions when she told him to take her to Jamie's house instead of her own.

"Thanks, Simon," she told him when he'd told her she didn't need to pay as they were like family. "I owe you one."

He shrugged, waving her off. "Ah, don't worry about it."

She watched him drive off before walking up the stone steps to the front door, to be greeted by Jamie's father, Reverend Grenadier.

"How― how long does he have?" she asked him.

He hesitated for a moment before answering the girl. "One or two months. Maybe less. Maybe more."

She gave the middle-aged man a disbelieving look. "So, you've given up."

The Reverend could hear the challenge in her voice. "His doctors have. James and I... we're still praying for a miracle."

She was a believer, she really was, but, at this point, she didn't know what to believe in anymore as everything she had ever believed in always seemed to disappoint her in the end.

"Praying," she said disdainfully.

"Carmen, we've lived with this for over a year now and―"

"A year?!" She ran a frustrated hand through her hair. "If there is a God, how could he let this happen?!"

It was a long answer, and by the time the Reverend opened his mouth to explain, she was out the door.

It was moonless dark by now, yet she rode the public bicycle she'd rented down the careless road. She stopped for a moment, on the side of the road, and opened a map. Turning on the light of the MP3 player she hadn't used in a while. Taking a deep breath, she pocketed both and drove forward. It was about three in the morning when she reached the residential neighborhood she'd been looking for. There were mansions, big lawns― everything that reminded her why she never visited in the first place.

She slowed down and leaned forward on the bike to read a street sign, her face tear-streaked. Frustrated that she couldn't read the sign well from afar, despite how close she was, she dug into her backpack and brought her large and bold black glasses, and quickly put them on. Lighting her MP3 player as close as she could to the street sign, she let out a sigh when she could finally decipher the street name, but then mentally groaned when it began to softly rain. Shoving her music player into her bag, she gripped onto the handlebar of the bicycle and pedaled toward her left.

A few minutes later, she arrived at a large new colonial. She rode the bicycle to one of the bike docks and locked it with her key-pass, which she shoved into her back pocket. She stood there in the street, by the docks, for a moment, staring at the house, hesitant to move forward.

Inhaling and exhaling shakily, she headed up the flagstone path for the front door. Again, once in front of the large door, she simply stood there, so many emotions rushing through her, almost giving her a whiplash. They weren't only about her goal to find a way to save Jamie; they were about having to turn for help in the direction she'd rather not have to resort to.

Her family, though large it was from, both, her father's side and her mother's, was one of the most separated ones she'd ever known, besides her best friend's. A while back, she would've tried anything to try and rekindle the good moments they had all shared, to revive the love that once flowed between each and every one of them, but she gave up as she found no one really cared about each other anymore. She found herself not caring either— if no one cares, why should she?

Through the years, she had no ounce of knowledge of what had become of her father's family as they had deserted her the second his funeral was over; he'd died when she was very young and had barely an idea of what death meant. Her 'family' from her mother's side were all practically scattered around America and Mexico's Pacific coast, the only one living within a shorter distance of her, her mother and her brother being one of her youngest uncles: Rafael. He was a doctor, as far as she knew, and though he lived on the outskirts of the city she lived in, it was more as though he lived in another town. She did not hate him— she did not hate anyone, or anything really, but she just couldn't care any less about any of them anymore. Just like with the rest of her relatives, she did not speak with him. But at this moment, she was ready to leave the past where it's meant to be and make amends for whatever reason if so was needed in order to find the help she sought.

Letting out a rather ragged breath, she finally lifted her hand and rang the doorbell. It rang loud and muffled due to the door being closed, but no one came to greet her, so she began to bang rather loudly on the heavy wooden door, grief-stricken.

"Dr. Menéndez! ... Menéndez! ... Uncle Rafa! Please! I have to talk to you!" she cried out as the rain began to fall harder.

Dr. Menéndez woke with a start. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he groggily got out of bed, slipped his robe on before leaving his room and making his way down the elegant, thick-carpeted corridor, parting the sill drapes at the end of the hall. The sleep whisked away almost instantly when he saw her standing on the front lawn, soaking wet, looking distraught and, despite the now pouring rain, tearful.

"Open the door! Please!" she pleaded.

When he didn't come out, she began to back away from the house, angrily kicking over a decorative planter, though halfway to the bike docks, the door opened, and her uncle came out.

"Carmen?!"

But she didn't hear him.

"Carmen!"

Again, she did not hear him.

"Carmen!" he tried again, louder this time.

Her head snapped up and she spun around. She stared at the man before her blankly for a moment, the man she had not seen in years, the one she had once been the closest to from all her other relatives. After a few long agonizing seconds, she finally broke down and began to sob. Rafael walked over to her, ignoring the pouring rain and pulled the soaking wet girl into a big bear hug.

"You have to save him!" she cried out before she began to ramble on incoherently.

"Carmen, Carmen," he said simultaneously, grabbing her by the shoulders at arms' length. "Carmen, who? Is your mother all right? Your brother—"

She could see the lights popping on upstairs, from her peripheral vision, and her uncle's girlfriend— or whatever she'd become by now— looking out at them through the window, but she ignored the latter and answered.

"It's Jamie— my boyfriend— he has cancer— you have to come look at him— right now!"

Her uncle let out a sigh and calmly replied, trying to diffuse the subject, "It's the middle of the night—"

"I don't give a shit what time it is!" she cut him off, pulling away, angrier.

Rubbing his temples, Rafael sighed. "Carmen, I'm a cardiologist, not an oncologist—"

"You're a doctor, aren't you?!" She waved her uncle off, dismissing him.

"Carmen! I'll look into it!"

But Carmen didn't hear. She had already run past the bike docks and down the street, not caring that she, herself, was ill and could possibly die from running in such a weather all the way home. Rafael watched his niece run away, regretful.

Around an hour later, she found herself shutting the door of the apartment she lived in with her brother and mother. Wheezing slightly, she leaned her back against the door for a long moment, trying to catch her breath, before, exhaustively, dragging herself to the kitchen, leaving her bag forgotten at the entrance, not really caring that she was wetting the white marble floor on the way. She had noticed the TV in the living room, which was connected to the kitchen and dining room, was lit as well as the small figure sitting on the armchair, watching it, but she chose to ignore it as she began to prepare herself a large cup of coffee while trying to calm her breathing.

Breath still heavy and ragged, she stared at the heating pot as she waited for the water to boil, though only glanced up when she saw her inhaler being held out to her. She looked up into the familiar pair of hazel eyes and nodded appreciatively as she grabbed it, removed the cap as she knew it had already been shaken for her, breathed out, away from the inhaler, before bringing the item to her lips. She slowly breathed in the slightly liquid yet airy substance before removing the inhaler from her mouth, holding her breath for ten seconds, then breathing out.

"You should be more careful," she was told, but she shrugged it off, recapping her inhaler before turning the stove off as the water was ready.

She grabbed a mug and poured the water of the pot into it, carefully as to not burn herself.

"I hope you don't mind me staying. Your brother said I could, but I... I guess I just want to make sure my staying here doesn't bother you?"

"It's fine," the young girl mumbled.

She threw two tablespoons of ground coffee into her cup and stirred it till the grains dissolved in the hot water. After a few seconds of just stirring and staring at her cup, she took the spoon out, poured in three tablespoons of sugar and stirred it a bit more before throwing the utensil into the sink and bringing the cup up to her chapped lips, taking a long sip of the hot drink. It felt like shoving a hot piece of down her throat, and the fact that she was drinking it black didn't help much as she usually added a bit of milk, but, at this moment, the dull burning drink was better than a soft warm one. It kept her awake, aware of the reality around her. Aware of the cruelness of the world.

"Your uncle called," she heard.

She looked up and stared blankly as her brother's girlfriend, Marion Eliza Mohammad. She was a pretty Persian brunette, with big doe hazel-nut eyes. Unlike the rest of her family, she had quite a petite frame, especially for someone her age, but she was very pretty and, though she still wore very bit of make-up, she was more natural than any of her sisters and was very kind and compassionate. The younger girl never had any problem with her from the beginning; it wasn't her fault she didn't know of her existence until her brother decided one day to finally bring her to their home. It was her brother who had passed up on telling his girlfriend he had a sister. Of course, the latter didn't blame her brother for forgetting either; though they lived together, they barely talked or saw each other— he didn't even know she was in college already, he still thinks she's in high school, going to her fourth and before last year as she had only just turned fifteen two months prior the current date. He didn't even know that her boyfriend was dying, even less than she ever had one.

"He said Jamie's a patient at his hospital," Marion continued.

The teenager looked away, brows furrowed as she tried not to cry while staring down at the cup in her hands, which she gripped tightly, her knuckles whitening.

"He's having a colleague look at him this morning." There was a long pause before Marion said, in a softer tone, "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

A small breath escaped her lips. "Neither did I," she whispered.

A second passed, then, suddenly, the ceramic cup shattered from her tight grip on it, cutting through her roughly-skinned hands, the hot drink splashing onto the floor and her already wet clothes. The burning of the steaming liquid wasn't what made her cry, nor the blood that was now oozing from her cut hands. No, it was the emotional agony she was going through. The pain of such an anticipation, of knowing she was going to lose someone. Though the burn the hot drink left behind as it slid down her chest and stomach was painful along with the pain coming from her cut flesh, which Marion was panicking over, nothing hurt her more than the pain of knowing someone else she loved was going to die on her.

The next morning, she simply laid on her bed in the dark, a single ray of sunshine piercing through the silky blue drapes covering the large window in her room. Her hands were bandaged and kept at her sides as she laid there, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The phone suddenly rang, bringing her out of her empty reverie. She turned her head to the side and stared at her extension. It rang a few more times before finally stopping, making her turn her stare back to the ceiling. It was Tuesday, but she had no courses that day, and she wasn't needed for work for the week as it was her day off. After staring at the ceiling for a few more seconds, she shut her eyes close, taking a deep pained breath before letting it out. Her eyes snapped back open when she heard her name being called from the living room.

"It's your uncle."

She hesitated for a moment before sighing, pushing herself up onto her elbows to reach for her extension, and then laying back down when she picked up.

The door to her room was ajar. Marion waited outside. Listening. Hearing nothing. She bit her lip— where was her boyfriend when she needed him? His little sister was going through a rough time and he was nowhere to be found. Did he care about his sister at all? She pushed the door open and saw the teenage girl sitting in her darkened room, on her bed, back facing the door, completely deflated.

"He can't do anything." Though she had spoken the day before, it sounded as she hadn't spoken in days, weeks, as her voice held a raspy edge to it.

Marion was pained to see her suffering. "If it's incurable—"

"I told him to leave me alone," she cut her off.

Marion looked at her, taken aback. "Ayden—"

"It was the only thing I've ever asked him!" she cut her off again, referring to Jamie. "The only thing I ever asked anyone."

Marion took that as her cue to leave the teenage girl alone and left. That evening, she was still in bed, facing the wall. Marion had knocked at her door and entered with a plate of food, but she was paid no mind.

"I brought some dinner," she said softly.

No response.

Sighing, she left the tray on the night table beside the twin-sized bed and left the room, leaving the girl to drown in her grief.


	2. The Calls

**The Calls**

In the neighboring house, Jamie was feeling completely and utterly distraught, and it was no secret to either of his parents. As they sat at the dining table, under the dimmed light, eating their dinner, it was practically stamped on his face; he was red-eyed and visibly heartbroken.

"She'll call," he said, though the uncertainty was clear in his voice.

"I wanted to think she'd changed," said his father, though Jamie quickly cut him off angrily.

"No, you didn't." He paused. "But she did change. Just not enough."

Reverend Grenadier sighed, putting his fork down on the table beside his plate. "James, you're not mad at me. You're mad at Carmen―"

"I _am_ mad at you!" Jamie cut him off furiously. "And at Ayden! And the universe! And God!" His tone then took on a quieter volume. "I don't even know where to put all my anger."

"Honey, that's normal," said his mother. "God accepts your anger. He won't punish you."

"By making me ill, he is punishing me!" He took a deep breath. "I just don't know what for," he added quietly before fleeing to his room. He pushed open the curtains from his window and gazed out at Ayden's, which had its drapes covering it. He sighed. _Please, Ayden..._

But she was even worse.

She hadn't spoken to anyone. She'd forgotten all about her sessions with her psychiatrist and ignored his calls, or anyone's really. She was distraught, and she felt so for days.

She'd stay up late. Working, studying, reading on the computer. It didn't matter what she was doing, it's the feeling she got. She'd be tired, her eyes would burn, and she'd have the gritty feeling one usually gets after not sleeping for a while. She'd try to crawl into her bed, close her eyes for a couple of minutes while waiting for sleep to overcome her, but it almost never did. She'd try to get a little moisture back into her eyes. That couldn't hurt anything, right? But it did. It was like asking a corpse to come back to life. Like telling a broken mirror to put its pieces back together and show people's reflections without a crack of its previous break. Like telling a bird with a broken wing to fly when it clearly couldn't, when all it could do is fall. And that's what she was doing.

She was falling.

Like stepping off a cliff, she was in free fall, though her body wasn't even moving. Then, like a bungee cord snapping back, she was jerking awake, heart thumping a little faster, blinking quickly, wondering what just happened...

She searched that feeling online.

Professionals— doctors call it a hypnic jerk. A natural reaction, they say, to your brain thinking you're dying, when your breathing and heart rate slow as you fall asleep. What the doctors don't know is, her brain was right. Every time she let herself nod off, every time she felt that 'falling' sensation... She was not falling. She was being pulled down.

And one day... her brain won't be able to pull her back up. Her inner demons... they will have her, and that's what she was afraid of. That's what made her second-guess everything she thought and made her so indecisive.

Thursday, though, was when she decided to finally leave the house to do something for herself, to get her mind off of everything. She had gone to the park and walked on its outskirts as she had no idea what to do for herself alone. Finally deciding only one person remained that could make her feel better and was actually nearby her current location, she headed to the orphanage on the outskirts of the city to pay Emmaline a visit.

Emmaline Jensen was the owner of the only orphanage in the city. The only reason Ayden met her was because she had made a deal with the police department: she would do any type of community service if nothing she did with Jake and his crew was put into file. To her surprise, they agreed and even gave her the chance to choose what community service she would be doing. There were many, but most were out of the city. The orphanage was the best one there was, according to her, but a week after she had started, she instantly regretted it. She had to stay over for a few weeks, as it was quite far from her home, so she could learn more about how to work there for the next five months. She hated it the first week as there were kids her age who would tease her about anything and everything, then steal her things.

_"Hey, look what the new girl brought with her."_

_Ayden groaned, chasing the boy around in order to get her possession back. "Jackson, give it back." He laughed. "Give it to me!"_

_Emmaline, the owner of the orphanage, walked in and stood by the door, crossing her arms over her chest. "Give it back, Jackson. The camera is Carmen's, not yours. We respect property in this household, don't we, Jackson?"_

_The young boy grunted. "Yes, ma'am," he replied grouchily, giving her Ayden's camera._

_She grabbed the camera and walked over to Ayden with a warm smile on her face. "Here you go, Carmen." Ayden gave her a wary look. "It's okay, sweetie. I know you're new here, but you're gonna be just fine," Emmaline encouraged, and Ayden finally took the camera from her hand, though the wariness in her eyes did not falter. "Okay, lights out in fifteen! Don't forget to brush your teeth!"_

_Jackson, the boy who had been bothering Ayden advanced toward her the moment Emmaline was gone. "It's your choice, **sweetie**. You can either give me that camera tomorrow or I can make your life a living hell."_

_Ayden gave him a humorless smile. "Or I can just beat the crap out of you if you don't leave me alone." She took a threatening step toward him. "My life has already been hell, so trust me when I say you do **not** want to find out what I am capable of."_

_And with that said, she walked out._

Having had enough, she had packed her stuff and planned to run away and return home, but Emmaline had caught her.

_"I made us some cocoa. Wanna join me?"_

_Startled, Ayden let out a small gasp, blinking a few times, before slowly turning around. "No."_

_Emmaline shrugged, from where she sat on an armchair in the living room. "Suit yourself." She took a sip of her cocoa. "You know, by my account, there are fifteen separate subconscious signs or tells that a child displays when they're going to run away. In the brief time, we were together, you showed seven. Not that I blame you. When I was younger, I did the same thing."_

_Ayden's brows furrowed in surprise. "You ran away?"_

_"I tried to. People in my life, they, uh... they intervened. Do you wanna know why?"_

_Ayden sighed. "Does it matter?"_

_"It did to me," Emmaline replied with a somewhat stiff nod. "They stopped me because they cared about me."_

_"Lucky you," Ayden muttered._

_Emmaline shook her head and smiled. "No. Lucky you. Because now, though it's only temporary, you're living under my roof, and I'm gonna care for you the way they cared for me."_

_Ayden let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, well, don't waste your time. I'm not interested."_

_Emmaline smiled tightly. "Hmm. Suit yourself. Go. I won't stop you."_

_Ayden's eyes narrowed in surprise and wariness. "You won't?"_

_"No. Go on," Emmaline replied, motioning toward the door. "More cocoa for me. I understand how difficult it must be to live under the same roof as someone like Jackson, who's deathly afraid of spiders. Any spiders, really. Small spiders. Big spiders. Even the rubber ones I keep in my desk. In the drawer on the right. Behind the box of staples. Poor Jackson. It's a shame you can't stay, Carmen."_

_Ayden pursed her lips as she looked at Emmaline for a moment. "Maybe... maybe I could hang around for one more day."_

_Emmaline smiled, warmth making its way back into her smile, eyes twinkling as they gazed at Ayden. "Works for me."_

So, Emmaline managed to make Ayden reconsider her run and eventually got her to stay for the weeks she had to, and keep coming for the next five months.

Emmaline was an amazing woman, Ayden discovered. In the short amount of time the young girl had known her, they bonded quite well, and the young girl saw her as the mother her own didn't try to be. As opposed to her mother who ignored her, Emmaline was kind, gentle and... she listened. That's why that Thursday, that fourteenth of July, Ayden went to visit her.

They spent the whole day together and Ayden was really starting to feel better. They went to an amusement park that night, and Ayden finally laughed after what felt like forever to her when Emmaline dragged the young girl to play a claw machine. Ayden laughed again when she began. She had no idea how to play as she had never played before. In fact, she had never gone to a funfair in her life or any place where there were such games.

"Ooh! What do I do? Help!" she exclaimed in a playful tone.

Emmaline laughed. "Don't look at me! You're 'driving'!"

Ayden shook her head and sighed, giving up as she couldn't catch the dog plushie she wanted. "Oh! I can't do it."

"Concentrate," Emmaline told her softly.

Ayden looked at her for a moment, then nodded, turning back to the game. "Okay. Okay."

"Okay. Trust your instincts and let it rip. Don't let go. Win."

Nodding to herself, the girl concentrated as hard as she did on a Macroeconomics test and grinned when she finally caught the puppy she wanted with the claw. "Ah! I got it!" she squealed, feeling like a little girl again.

"Yes! Let's see what you won."

Ayden popped open the small plastic egg tied around the dog plushie's neck and found a cute ring inside of it. She smiled. "I love it."

Emmaline smiled at her. "See, this is a great lesson, Ayden. If you push yourself and you ignore the flickering lights and the distractions of this world, you can accomplish anything."

Ayden chuckled at the woman. "Emma, it's a plastic ring, not a scholarship to McGill."

"I know, but you're a special girl, Ayden." The girl smiled; she had only ever been called special by her father. That was the only thing she'd understand as she didn't speak French at the time. "And someday, you're gonna surprise everybody with your extraordinary gifts."

Ayden chuckled again and shook her head. "Okay, now you're going overboard."

"I'm serious," Emmaline insisted, though it was hard to take her seriously as she was smiling. "I'm glad I got to know you." Emmaline beamed with excessive and genuine praise while shedding tears of happiness.

Ayden's smile faded into a frown when she noticed that. "Emmaline, are... are you crying?"

"No, just... a little emotional."

Ayden stared at her for a moment before blurting out, "My time's being cut off."

"What?"

"That's why we spent the day together."

Emmaline shook her head. "No."

"It's why you're crying."

Emmaline gave out a small laugh and shook her head. "No. You couldn't be more wrong."

Ayden tilted her head to the side and looked at the woman curiously. "Then what is it?"

"I'm... I'm filling out the paperwork to adopt you. We're gonna be a family."

Ayden froze. Adopt her? How could that even work? She must be joking. Ayden looked at her and saw no sign that indicated that it was a joke. She blinked and looked at her in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

"I know that it's a big leap. But I—"

"No, it's not that it's— I have a family already, and—"

"They don't make you happy, Carmen. You've said so yourself. Your own mother and brother don't know you're a fifteen-year-old in college, studying to become a lawyer." Emmaline sighed and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders. "I know it's a big leap," she repeated. "And you may not look at me as a mother. I know how hard that is. But... I... I promise I will be the best big sister that you could ever hope for."

Ayden looked at her, eyes glistening with tears. "I...I love you," she whispered.

Emmaline smiled and brought her into a hug, kissing her forehead. "I love you, too."

With that, they pulled out away and shared another smile before making their way down the street toward the bus stop. As they waited, Ayden sighed, shoving her hands into her pockets; it was awfully chilly for a summer night in July.

"It's nights like this I wish I just had the power to poof home like Harry Potter," the girl said, sighing again. "If I was like him, I could be standing here in the cold one minute, and home soaking in the tub in the next."

Emmaline chuckled at the girl. "That would be something, wouldn't it? Ayden... Ayden, do you remember how much fun we had in the arcade two weeks ago?"

Ayden rummaged through her head for a moment, then grinned as she remembered. "Of course. Best day I've had in a long time, apart from today. How could I forget?"

Emmaline bit her lip, a thoughtful look on her face as her gaze locked with the young girl's. "And do you remember how the lights in the game flickered right before you won?"

Ayden thought for a second, then chuckled, nodding, making nothing of it. "Yeah. Weird."

"What if it was more than just weird? What if it meant that you were on the cusp of a great self-revelation? I think it's time."

Ayden gave her a puzzled look and only grew more confused when Emmaline led her into the middle of the road. Ayden looked at her with wide panicked eyes when she noticed a car coming their way. She tried to pull away, but Emmaline wouldn't let go.

"What are you doing?!"

"Stop the car."

Ayden gave her a disbelieving look. "What?!"

Emmaline's grip tightened on her arm and it was starting to hurt. "Trust your instincts. Do it! Stop the car!"

By now, Ayden had tears in her eyes. "Let go of me!" she shrieked as she yanked her arm out of Emmaline's grasp and turned to run away.

"Carmen! I'm sorry," the woman called after her.

"Are you crazy?! You almost killed me!" Ayden shouted, her breathy starting to get hard. She had to calm down before she had another asthma attack, but it was kind of hard while being in the presence of a crazy lady.

"I made a mistake. When I was younger, I... I had a traumatic experience that unleashed a power that I... I didn't even know that I had."

"What are you talking about?" Ayden demanded, now wheezing.

"I thought the arcade was a sign that you were coming into your own."

"You think I have powers? Like Harry Potter?" Ayden cried out.

Emmaline shook he head, trying to approach the girl. "No, Carmen. That's fiction. What you have is more real and more powerful than you can possibly imagine."

"Great. I should've known the only person willing to take me from my misery would turn out to be a nut job," Ayden said in disbelief.

Emmaline shook her head once again and reached forward to place a hand on the girl's shoulder. "No. Carmen..."

Ayden pulled further away. "Don't touch me!" The tears were falling from her eyes now. She was hot and cold, and confused, and she couldn't breathe correctly, nor think properly. "I thought..." Shaking her head in disbelief, she spun on her heels and sprinted away, ignoring Emmaline's calls.

"Carmen, wait. Ayden! Ayden! Ayden!"

One new thing to turn her back on.

She found herself in the hospital the next morning, her only visitor being Marion. Though she would've preferred having no visitors at all, or rather no one being aware of her being there, she was grateful it was only Marion as she knew she could trust her to keep it between them.

"You're lucky I was the one to pick up the phone," said the young woman.

The teenager sighed, leaning her head back onto the sickeningly stuffed pillows; they were almost suffocating her by being so big. "I know. Thanks for not telling my brother."

Marion stared at her for a moment, leaning her chin on the palm of her hands, her elbows propping them up as they rested on her thighs. "What happened?" she asked quietly.

There was a disturbing silence that lasted for about two minutes before Ayden decided to confess.

"A while back... after they took Jake, I made a deal with the department to keep our stunt out of my file, basically to not make me a file or put my name in any other. In exchange for that, I had to do some community service, though I was allowed to choose. I chose the orphanage on the outskirts of town since it was the closest place."

Marion nodded, still not understanding what it had to do with the previous night. "What does that have to do with whatever happened last night?"

Ayden sighed. "Remember the three weeks I was away?"

Marion nodded. "The school field trip?"

The young girl shook her head. "I lied. It wasn't a school field trip. I was supposed to stay at the orphanage to familiarize myself with the environment and work I'd be attending to for the next five months. I almost didn't last long. My first week was hell. My things kept getting stolen and I kept being teased. At the end of that week, I had packed and was ready to sneak out to come back home, but the owner caught me."

"She convinced you to stay?"

"She convinced me to reconsider my leave. She knew that I was planning on changing community service, but she changed my mind; told me she used to be teased as well and all that. We actually bonded throughout those three weeks and the next few months."

"You were done?"

"No. Yesterday was going to be my third month. I went to spend the day with her to clear my thoughts. Woman turned out being a nut job."

Marion stiffened. "She did something to you." Though it wasn't a question.

Ayden chuckled humorlessly. "Nicely deduced."

"Ayden, what did she do to you?"

"Well… everything was fine until a while after we left the amusement park. We talked, and she told me how she was planning on adopting me—"

"Adopting you? But you already—"

"I know, and I told her that, but she said she'd find a way, and, _of course_, I was ecstatic... until we were on our way home."

"What happened?"

Ayden pursed her lips, thinking for a moment before liberating; she explained everything that had happened the previous night, from the moment they met up and went to the fair together, to the moment she tried to kill her. After that short yet long revelation, Ayden did not speak, nor did she spare Marion another glance after they left the hospital.

As the days went by, she avoided her and her brother like a plague, just as much as she avoided answering her psychiatrists' calls. They weren't the only ones she was trying to avoid. Her friends, her classmates she'd gotten pretty close to over teamed projects... well, that was mainly because she was often falling asleep in class, but can you blame her? Summer is probably the worst time to go to school; the hot weather gets you more tired as you're tempted to stay up all night. That was what happened to her the next Monday. She stayed up all night, though, of course, it wasn't like your regular teen that stayed up all night partying. No. She stayed up all night in order to avoid having nightmares. Unfortunately for her, her all-nighters began to catch up to her.

On the nineteenth of July, she found herself falling asleep in class. Her eyes were drooping, and her head was slipping from the palm of her hand as the woman at the front of the classroom was going on and on about... something. The young girl couldn't tell anymore, seeing as she was drifting in and out of consciousness.

"Miss Jaubert!"

The girl jumped from her seat and almost fell off, causing few of her classmates to snicker once they realized she had been snoozing.

She blinked twice before giving her teacher a genuinely innocent look. "Wha— I mean, yes, Mrs. Marin?"

"Since you seem to be so interested in my class, mind repeating what I was just saying?"

The girl bit her lip and helplessly glanced over her neighboring classmate. The boy shrugged as if saying he wasn't paying attention either, making her sigh.

"Er... you were saying... that laws are rules that bound our behavior... um, they're effective and must have an enforcement, in other words, a penalty given by authority agencies... they're enforced, a domestic law being an example of an enforced law... but there are also non-enforced laws, like religious laws, which no one necessarily obeys...?"

Mrs. Marin stared at the girl with wide eyes for a moment as well as the other fifty students in her classroom. She was fifteen after all, in a college classroom filled with young adults; she shouldn't even know any of what she just said― she shouldn't even be there!

"I... well, that is _a_ correct answer, Miss Jaubert, but we didn't... we haven't reached that subject yet— it's due for next class. We were talking about the Canadian constitution."

"Oh..." The girl could feel a blush creeping onto her brown cheeks. "Uh... well, then the Canadian constitution is the... hybrid type?"

Mrs. Marin smiled and nodded, though she was still in shock from her student's previous answer. "And what is a hybrid constitution?"

A blond perky girl, whose seat was right behind the fifteen-year-old, raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Russo?"

"A hybrid constitution is like the British constitution and a general constitution put together."

"That is correct, do you have anything to add, Miss Jaubert?" the professor pressed, looking at the girl, who was no longer paying attention to the lesson once more.

"Huh?" she asked puzzled, making Dinah Russo face-palm herself at her friend's confusion.

"Tell me, Miss Jaubert, the types of constitutions within the hybrid constitution?"

The fifteen-year-old fought back a groan. She knew the teacher actually liked her, but couldn't she give her a break? She had enough attention placed upon her as it was, being the youngest in the entire CEGEP, she didn't need any more.

"Well... there's the unwritten, meaning... it can't be found in any legal document and it's made up of volumes of laws of parliament like back in 1215, the Magna Carta, and its laws are based on centuries of practice like common laws, which is the case of the British constitution, and then there's the written, which is the opposite and its laws are higher and harder to change."

"That is correct..." Mrs. Marin frowned, then shook her head as if to clear her mind. "I want you all to look up, from the cases I listed out for you, the Lord's Day act, the Oakes case and the Sikh student's case for next class— course dismissed."

"Finally!" Dinah sighed.

"I know," the other girl replied, shoving her stuff into her bag, before slinging it over her shoulder. As both girls started making their way towards the exit of the classroom, Mrs. Marin stopped the younger one.

"Yes, Mrs. Marin?"

"Can I speak to you privately for a moment?"

The girl glanced back at Dinah, who nodded encouragingly. "I'll be right outside." With that said, Dinah walked out leaving both women alone.

"Carmen," the stern woman began. The girl fought back another groan; she hated being called by her first name. "I must say, I find it quite disrespectful when you drift off during my classes."

_God, she makes me feel like a high schooler_, the girl thought. _Though, technically, I should be one_...

"I know, I'm sorry. I know I'm not in high school anymore and that is unacceptable, but—"

"I've noticed it has only started recently." That shut her up. "Are there any problems back at home that have rendered you to quietness and isolation?"

The girl bit her lower lip. "I... er... I can't... I have to go, Mrs. Marin." She sent her an apologetic smile then quickly walked out before her politics teacher could add anything.

"So, what was that about?" Dinah asked as they left the building. The fifteen-year-old simply shrugged.

"Just the usual teacher trying to play therapist: 'why are you so quiet all of a sudden?' 'Why are you so absentminded?'" The girl threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "I'm fifteen, for God's sake! Of course, I'll be daydreaming every now and then! And what? There's a law against being quiet, now?"

Dinah snorted. "You would know."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Oh, shut up." She playfully shoved her friend.

"So, what are you doing for this upcoming week?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that right now, I'm going to CWM."

"Oh, God." Dinah groaned. "Would you leave that place alone already? It's like you're married to it."

The young girl gave her friend a sheepish smile and shrugged. "That museum is beautiful and filled with knowledge, so I wouldn't mind."

"You're weird."

"Your face is weird."

"Yeah?" Dinah paused. "Well you're weird... all in all."

"That's how we ended compatible with each other." The younger girl shrugged once more. "Your weirdness is contagious."

"Hey, that rhymed!"

"Now, look who's weird."

"That wasn't weird, Den. That was random," Dinah corrected as they walked across the crowded campus.

"Your face is random," the girl muttered. "Sometimes it's hard to believe you're older than me, you know?"

Dinah rolled her eyes before elbowing her best friend and nodding her head towards the large, crowded parking lot. "You catching a ride? Max's here."

The girl shook her head and snorted. "Even though we've known each other for five months, your brother still creeps me out it with all the... clinginess."

"Clinginess? That's not even a word," Dinah muttered.

"Course it is." The fifteen-year-old shrugged as she brought her MP3 player and headphones out of her bag. "Besides, it's almost a twenty-minute walk from here to there. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" She then turned and started walking away from the perky blond.

"We're still talking later for the macro assignment!" Dinah called after her friend who was almost completely gone.

"Yeah, yeah!" Ayden plugged her headphones to her music player, placed the headset over her head, the speakers over her ears, and with that, she was off listening to the soft voices of Johnny Mercer and Margaret Whiting singing Baby it's cold outside ever so beautifully.

The Canadian War Museum was Canada's national museum of military history. It covered all facets of Canada's military past, from the first recorded instances of death by armed violence in Canadian history several hundred years ago to the country's most recent involvement in conflicts. What Ayden liked was that it also had, though separated from the rest, its own private exhibit on the First and Second World War.

She spent at least two hours in there before making her way back home.

"Hey there, Sunshine."

She chuckled at the mailman as he was the first to greet her as she reached the stone steps of her house. "Hey, Ernie. Got any mail there for me?" she asked politely.

"Sure do. Here." The postman handed her a letter and her eyes instantly lit up when she saw who it was from.

"Thanks!" She exclaimed before dashing through the door, up the stairs and locking herself in her room. The moment the door closed behind her, she ripped the envelop open and unfolded the letter.

_Den-Den, hey!_

_I know haven't been writing to you a lot. I'm really sorry and I hope you forgive me. I know you must be very worried about me, but don't be, okay? I'm perfectly fine. So many things have happened, though, and I can't wait till I get home and tell you everything. I don't have much time anymore, hope you're doing fine and try to stay healthy._

_With love from your best-est friend in the whole wide world,_

_Leonard Dorian_

Ayden couldn't remember when was the last time she had felt so happy, but she didn't care. Though her best friend was in the army and she was extremely worried about his well being, she was exploding with joy after hearing from him. After knowing he was still well and alive.

Her happiness, however, seemed as though it was never going to get the chance to last.

The setting sun gleaming through her uncovered large window as she laid on her bed with a smile on her face, holding the letter to her chest, she was startled by the phone which suddenly began to ring. Brows furrowed, she turned her head to the side and stared at her extension. Who would be calling at this time? It rang a few more times before finally stopping, making her turn her stare back to the ceiling, a smile making its way back onto her lips as she thought of her best friend. After staring at the ceiling for a few more seconds, she shut her eyes close, sleep beginning to catch up to her once again. Her eyes snapped back open when she heard her name being called from the living room.

"It's... it's for you."

She frowned and hesitated for a moment before sighing, putting the letter aside before pushing herself up onto her elbows to reach for her extension, then laying back down when she picked up. There was a long pause as she waited for the person on the other line to say what they wanted to tell her, though as soon as they did, her heart stopped.

"What?" she croaked.


	3. Letting go

**Letting go**

She couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like losing your only child and son to an incurable disease, though she knew what it was like to lose someone you held dear, whether it was through illness or an accident. Her father had been diagnosed with a severe case of ischemic heart disease, though they had never known until after he had been taken to the hospital after being a victim in a car crash. She never got to say goodbye... but this time, it wasn't going to be like that.

She didn't care how strange she felt, standing there, the strap of her guitar case hanging from her shoulder, by the door of the hospital room 1021. She didn't care about that sick feeling she always got when she was in a hospital, the one she was currently feeling. All she cared about was the pale-looking boy, laying in the hospital bed, which was slightly propped upward so it was as though he were sitting.

Feeling that he wasn't alone, Jamie sighed and slowly turned his head. "I told you, Dad, I'm..." he trailed off when he noticed that his father wasn't the one standing there. "Ayden."

Her lips twitched in an attempt to smile, though it only came out as a grimace. "I thought _I_ was Ayden," she joked half-heartedly.

He cracked a smile. "You're here."

"I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye, now, could I?" she said softly, walking forward toward his bed.

He chuckled. "I guess not." His eyes shifted toward the encased instrument hanging from her shoulder, and his brows instantly raised in surprise. "You brought it out?" he asked softly.

She cracked a smile at his innocent face. "Only for you."

He leaned back against his pillows. "Can you sing me something?"

She hesitated for a moment before nodding and bringing her guitar out. After making sure it was tuned, she sat on the edge of the bed beside him and began to play a soft melody on her acoustic guitar.

She closed her eyes for a moment, then, finally, began to sing, after strumming two rounds on her guitar, her mezzo-soprano voice sounding like the soft blow of an ocarina.

"_It almost feels like it was just a dream, all these memories of you and me, soon blown away in the summer breeze. It'll almost feel like we just never were, all the time we spent all just a blur, and it'll just be me and a melody._"

She shifted her gaze over to the window on the other side of her room, where the pouring rain was quite visible. "_So what am I... supposed to do?_" She looked back at him. "_'Cause all these plans we made in the sand are through_."

She paused for a moment, before continuing onto the chorus, both completely oblivious of his parents and nurse watching them from the doorway.

"_Without you: I'm on my own. Am I gonna be alone? And if it's only me, myself and I, will I be fine? So far from home... and I just don't know; am I gonna make it? Brave enough to take this road, out on my own._"

For a moment it was just the guitar playing before she continued, "_Looking in the mirror, it's hard to see... all these choices that I've gone between; who I should and who I wanna be._" And it was the just the guitar again before she continued. "_I wanna send and take this wave, and ride into a brighter day; should I take a chance and bet on me?_"

Her gaze once again shifted over to the window on the other side of her room. "_So what am I... supposed to do?_" She looked back at him, eyes practically pleading. "_I got all these plans, but can't get through them without you..._"

She paused for a moment again, before continuing onto the chorus. "_'Cause without you: I'm on my own. Am I gonna be alone? And if it's only me, myself and I, will I be fine? So far from home... and I just don't know..._" She strummed once. "_Am I gonna make it?_" Twice. "_Brave enough to take this road..._" Then finished with only her voice. "_Out on my own._"

"Ayden..." he said softly. She only shook her head, pushing him into pulling her into his arms in a cold yet warm embrace. She pushed her guitar aside and returned the gesture, though ever so gently as though she were afraid he might break and, at this point, it was hard not to imagine that happening.

"You're going to have to eventually, you know."

She shook her head, holding him a little tighter. "No, Jamie. I... I can't—"

"I'm not asking you to forget me. I'm just asking you to stay strong and move on," he said softly.

She shook her head again, letting out a small heartbreaking laugh. "I'll never be able to move on, Jamie..." she managed to choke out through her constricted throat.

_Beep— Beep— Beep—_

He caressed her face which was pressed against his chest; she was warm in comparison to his cold body and that made her shiver slightly as he ran his fingers against her cheek.

"I love you," he whispered.

She looked up at him, eyes watering. "Please don't leave me, Jamie," she croaked.

His breathing was becoming harder and that made her instantly loosen her grip around him. "I... I can't... I can't promise... you anything anymore... Ayden, and... for that, I am so sorry."

Her brows furrowed, eyes only widening in realization when she heard the heart monitor slowing down. She shook her head, a few tears betraying her.

"Please... please, James... Please, I need you... I need you now, more than ever."

"Stay... strong..." His breath came out slow, and the monitor was silent.

Her breathing hitched as she watched him close his eyes, his arms falling from around her. "No... James... Jamie? Please... open your eyes... wake up!" She shook him, not wanting to believe— to accept that he was gone. "Please! Wake up!"

Jamie's father instantly walked over to her as his wife went off with the nurse to call the doctor.

"Somebody! Please! Bring him—"

"Carmen, let him—"

"No!" she cried out as Reverend Grenadier placed his hands on her shoulders. She shook him off. "No! He can't... he can't— he promised! Jamie! Please! Come back!"

It actually hurt him to watch her like this. He had always seen her as a cold distant girl, a girl that barely showed any emotions. Watching her break down in tears this way was heartbreaking and made him regret misjudging her; his son was right. She had changed. She had cared. But now, he wasn't sure if she ever would again; she was just too broken. He understood her pain; he had just lost his only child and son.

He was not the only one who was going to be missing the boy, though. The mourning crowd stood in a silent circle, three weeks, as he took his place beside his son's coffin. He looked around to make sure that all the guests were present, though noticed the young girl his son had loved his entire life was nowhere in sight. Shaking his head to himself in disappointment, he cleared his throat then began to speak.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we gather here today to mourn the loss of our friend... and my son... James Harrison Grenadier."

"Amen," the crowd murmured in unison.

"God full of mercy who dwells on high, grant perfect rest on the wings of Your Divine Presence in the lofty heights of the holy and pure who shine as the brightness of the heavens to the soul of James Grenadier, who has gone to his eternal rest as all his family and friends pray for the elevation of his soul. His resting place shall be in the Garden of Eden. Therefore, the Master of Mercy will care for him under the protection of His wings for all time and bind his soul in the bond of everlasting life. God is his inheritance and he will rest in peace and let us say Amen."

"Amen!"

At this point the reverend stopped, knowing that it was time for him to offer his final blessings to his son, as a father, before his wife came and did the same, along with the rest of his small family and Jamie's friends. The process was long, dull, heartbreaking and tiring, though he could not hide the enlightening of his face and surprise when he was about to end it.

A tall, somewhat full yet slender brunette came out from the crowd. She was wearing a thick red scarf, stuffed into a long black coat, and a pair of black pants and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. She had brought her guitar with her. Kneeling down before the coffin, she closed her eyes and whispered a short prayer. The reverend waited patiently.

After a few moments, the young brunette stood up and turned, walked over to the Reverend, eyes silently asking permission to something to which she was granted. Taking a deep breath, she took his place and turned to face the crowd.

"Hi," she breathed out. "My name is Carmen Jaubert... but I go by Ayden. I am - _was_ James' girlfriend."

She ran her tongue over her slightly chapped lips before continuing in a slightly trembling voice. "I don't know about all of you... but to me... Jamie... he was the best thing that ever happened to me." She swallowed hard. "My best friend was sent off into the army a while ago. I was a wreck at that time because I had gotten myself into some trouble and he wasn't there for me. The only person who was there was Jamie."

She gazed over at the picture on the coffin. "He was my friend for as long as I can remember, though he wasn't my best friend. I didn't know him well enough to know what he was feeling. Recently, after managing my way out of the mess I had gotten into, I was... confused. I had no idea what to do with myself. I had fallen into a bad habit of doing something reckless practically every day, and it was hard to fall out of it. But Jamie helped me, and I have never been happier..."

Though she was hard to figure out, it was clear to everyone that she was the kind of girl who avoided feeling, so it was a surprise to hear her admission, though it was also heartwarming. It was nice and beautiful to know that the young man had at least gotten someone to live him in that way.

"_Someone_ brought me out of my shell, not so long ago. They helped me discover all fifty shades of myself. But I was drowning in those fifty shades. I was drowning... and Jamie saved me. He showed me that I didn't have to be so many different things for someone to love me. And that's why I loved him. That's why I _love_ him, and I will never stop loving him. I owe everything to him— my dignity and the very meaning of my life. Our love shall not end with death, James, for sooner or later we shall be reunited in the Kingdom of our Lord."

The sound of sobbing could now be heard from within the crowd, and a few women began to wipe their faces with handkerchiefs.

Brows furrowing slightly, Ayden looked down at her feet for a moment, then gazed over at Jamie's picture, before finally looking at the crowd once more.

"I brought my guitar today. Jamie liked it when I sang to him, and... though I already sang him before... before, I want this song I am dedicating to him to be his last," she said, adjusting her guitar strap so the instrument was in front of her.

She took a deep breath. She had always been afraid of singing in public; she'd been judged way too much as it was, she didn't like being judged in front of a whole crowd, though, right now, she was ready to make an exception. For Jamie.

Clearing her throat, she began strumming on her guitar, going three rounds before letting once again her mezzo-soprano voice soars its way out through her lips, like the soft blow of an ocarina.

"_I always knew this day would come, we'd be standing one by one. A different future in our hands, so many changes in our plans._"

She gazed up, heart clenching; even the sky looked sad. "_I always knew after all these years, there'd be laughter, there'd be tears..._" She looked down at the picture on the coffin, eyes watering. "_But never thought I'd walk away with such a soul and heartbreaking pain._" Her eyes closed as she transitioned the notes. "_And it's so hard to say goodbye._"

She paused for a moment, before continuing onto the chorus. "_But I'm moving on, letting go, holding on to tomorrow. I've always got the memories while I'm finding out who I'm gonna be. We might be apart, but I hope you always know that I will always remember you!_"

For a moment it was just the guitar playing before she continued, "_Everyday that we had, all the good all the bad: I'll keep them here inside. All the times that we shared, every place, everywhere you touched my life._" And it was the just the guitar again before she continued. "_Yeah, one day I'll look back, I'll smile, and I'll laugh, but right now I'm just crying, 'cause it's so hard to say goodbye._"

She paused for a moment again, before continuing onto the chorus. "_But I'm moving on, letting go, holding on to tomorrow..._" She strummed softly. "_I've always got the memories while I'm finding out who I'm gonna be._" She strummed harder. "_We might be apart, but I hope you always know that I will always remember you, oh!_" Her strumming became softer as she neared the end. "_We might be apart, but I hope you always know, you'll be with me..._" She strummed once. "_And I will never forget you..._" Twice. "_'Cause, you'll be with me, yeah..._" Then finished with only her voice. "_Wherever I go..._"

It was quiet when she finished as she bowed her head toward the coffin in an act of respect, though she did not miss the awed looks she received from the crowd. Nevertheless, she simply nodded to them, then to the reverend who'd been waiting patiently. He returned the nod with an approving and appreciative one of his own, before turning to look at the gathered crowd.

"Is there anyone else who'd like to speak?"

No one answered; Ayden had practically said everything needed to say.

The Reverend nodded. "Very well. Now we may lower the coffin."

Several hooded figures encircled the coffin and began the procedure. The coffin was lowered into the pit, and the workers began shoveling to fill the pit. Once done, the hooded men joined the mourners in their circle. The reverend crossed his fingers in pious prayer.

"The kindness of James Grenadier will not be forgotten. May our Lord take this sacrifice and bestow upon us peace, happiness, and prosperity. Amen."

"Amen!" the mourners said in unison.

Again, Ayden wasn't one to hate, though, if she could make an exception, it would be herself that she hated; the second she left the cemetery that day, she got home, logged onto her computer, and began to create a file on herself, falsifying as much as she could. It took her four days to finish it, but, a week after that, she went to the MEPS and handed them in, with only hope that she would be chosen.

She waited days, weeks, though, when she finally got her mail in mid-September, the letter dedicated to her was not the one she had hoped to get ever.

_Dear Miss Jaubert,_

_I was incredibly saddened to learn of the death of your brother, Leonard Dorian._

Ayden frowned. Leonard was not her brother. He was close to it, but they weren't related. And he was... he was dead?

_I am sure that your family must be going through a whole range of emotions right now, from being devastated to proud to angry, then back to devastated again._

_Knowing that he died while serving his country is supposed to bring you a little bit of comfort, and I hope it does. You know that Leonard loved and was proud of what he was doing. While no armed services member wants to die in the line of duty, they all know it's a possibility, and it's a risk they're willing to take._

_That said, it's never easy on the ones they leave behind. All I can say is that you're perfectly entitled to whatever you're feeling, and you will help yourself if you feel all those emotions instead of trying to bury them. That's the only way you can truly begin to heal._

_I am around if you need anything at all. Please get in touch._

_With love,_

_Colonel Jenkins._

He was... gone?

First her father, then Jamie, now Leonard? Why did everyone she loved always died on her?

She had no idea what to do with herself, or what to do in general anymore. Either way, she had already enrolled, so all she had left to do was wait. There was nothing holding her back now.

Her letter came on the eleventh of October, though when she finally got it, she didn't get it the way she had hoped to get it. Her brother had been the one to see what mail they had gotten that day and, when he saw an unfamiliar envelope with his sister's name on it, he instantly tore it up and read. What he read was not something he liked. At all.

"Why the hell does it say in this letter that you've been drafted... selected to be in the army?"

Ayden looked at her brother, face as calm as ever. "I enlisted."

Her brother looked at her in disbelief. "Why the hell would you do that?! And— they let you? You're only fifteen, for fuck's sake!"

"I'm well aware of my age, brother." Her reply was followed by a shrug and small chuckle.

He glared at his sister. "You think this is a joke? You're going to war and you laugh about it like it's nothing?"

"Look, _Eddie_, I know it's war, but you have to accept that I'm doing this willingly. I'm not taking this as a mere joke. What do you want me to do? Cry about it?"

"I want you to go up to them and tell them you're not going."

"You know I can't do that. Once I'm in, I'm in... unless I do something drastic that would get me kicked out, but I am _not_ doing _that_."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind?" he muttered. "It that really what you want? To get yourself killed?"

"It's kind of inevitable in a war, in case you didn't know."

"This isn't a damn video game, Carmen."

Ayden winced. She generally hated being called by her first name, but it stung, even more, when it was her brother doing so. "I know it's not. And I'm not scared, Ed... I know what I'm getting myself into."

He stared at her for a moment, eyes cold with anger. He turned and walked away, though not before muttering, "Just go and get yourself killed then."

The young Menéndez didn't know this, but his words had actually been loud enough for Ayden to hear and be heartbroken at that. Her saddened eyes lingered on his retreating back for a moment before she grabbed her letter and once again locked herself in her room.

There, many nights after then, for the next week, she would find herself sitting on her bed, staring at one particular notebook. It was old and worn, the written of a six-year-old scribbled on the cover, spelling her name.

_Carmen_

Back when before she had let herself break and be clumsily brought back together as Ayden.

She would grab that yellow little makeshift notebook and flip through the pages, always landing on one particular verse she'd written so long ago— it felt like a millennium; on the edge of turning seven, her brother, aged of ten at the time, had been now a considerably intermediate pianist. His creativity had finally bloomed, and he had begun composing piano pieces. Ayden, whose artistic potential had blossomed earlier in the literary arts, had begun writing poems, which she later realized resounded better as songs.

This wasn't discovered until that one night her brother was struggling with his composition.

_"Hurry, Cece! Come record this! I can't forget this! Hurry!"_

_"Okay! Okay, I'm coming!"_

_When the recorder was finally placed beside him, the melody slipped from his mind and the boy could only groan in disappointment. "Gah! I forgot!"_

_Six-year-old Ayden had felt sad upon seeing her brother disappointed and settled on the bench beside him. Hesitant, she slowly brought her small hand to the piano and fingered the keys for a moment, trying to recall the key her brother was playing on; she didn't know how to play, but she was very much in tune and could easily adapt to anything musical._

_When she found the right key, she clumsily began to play a soft, slow melody she believed would go along great with his composition. Hugging her journal in which she wrote her poems to her chest, she replayed the melody multiple times, growing accustomed to the way her fingers jumped from a key to another._

_As her brother listened more closely, his own spirits lit upon realizing the same thing she was. Bringing his hands onto the instrument, he began to play anew as Ayden opted to continue singing the melody she'd been playing._

_" _Every night I lie in bed_," she suddenly whispered. "_The brightest colors fill my head... a million dreams are keeping me awake_..."_

_She smiled at the look of surprise on her brother's face. _"I think of what the world could be_," she began to subconsciously sing louder, not once noticing the silhouette of her mother standing by the door. "_A vision of the one I see... a million dreams is all it's gonna take... for the world we're gonna make…_"_

_Eduardo excitedly decided to continue, playing with more animosity._

_" _I close my eyes, under the moonlight and see… a world which I've only ever dreamed… one I call my own…_" A small transition in the piano momentarily played, growing slightly louder and dramatic before returning to the gleeful tune. "_Through the dark, through the door, somewhere no one's been before… but it feels like home…

They can say, they can say it all sounds crazy. They can say that I have lost my mind… I don't care, they all can call me crazy— I'll run away to a world of my own design…!

Don't matter how big, don't matter how small, just wanna be part of it all…_" With a bright smile on her face, she took hold of her brother's arm and rested her head on his shoulder as she hugged him. "_Please share your dreams with me_…"_

_She jumped to her feet and, much like she had done well over a year before when she told him of her dream wedding, she began to run around the living room and jumping onto the couches, seemingly never losing her breath._

_" _It may be right, it may be wrong_," she sang admittedly, running back toward him. "_But I just wanna bring you along… to the world in my dreams… you just have to close your eyes to see all I see in my dreams!_"_

_Finally seeming tired, she sat back down beside him, panting slightly, though seemingly not tired enough to stop singing._

_" _'Cause every night I lie in bed,_" she now sang in a whisper. "_The brightest colors fill my head… and million just keep… keeping me awake!_"_

Her eyes would fill with tears and she would continue to sing along with the once gleeful little Carmen from her dreams. "_Just think of what the world could be… a vision right out of our dreams— million dreams is all it's gonna take… a million dreams for the world we're gonna make…_"

And then she would let herself cry and what once was and would surely never be again as she'd curl herself up in her bed, hugging the notebook to her chest, mentally counting down the days till she was due to leave.

No one knew where she was going other than her brother, her mother, and Marion, though her mother didn't really give much of a reaction. Ayden was all packed and ready to go before she had even gotten the letter, so she was ready for when the time came. She was on her computer late one night, deleting all of her social media accounts, only making sure to leave her email activated in case she ever came back, though just when she was about to deactivate her Facebook account, something stopped her. A message.

Hesitating slightly, she opened it and read it.

**Hey, Ayden!**

**It's me, Erick, but I'm pretty sure you guessed that already.**

**Anyway, I haven't heard from you in a while, and the summer festival already passed. I wanted to play with you, but you didn't answer my messages. There's one coming up on Halloween.**

**You game?**

**Let me know!**

Should she...? Ayden bit her lip. It wouldn't hurt to make a theatrical departure...

Clicking on the reply box at the bottom of the page, her fingers soared forward and hovered over the keyboard. After a few more seconds of hesitation, she began typing down her reply.

_**Can you meet me tomorrow?**_

Her answer came almost instantly.

**Hey! Yeah, sure. What time?**

She told him when and where, and since then, for the next few weeks, they practiced with the other people they got together for the Halloween festival. She felt rather uncomfortable the way she dressed; she was okay with dark colors, but dresses? Not so much. Either way, she did not pay much mind to her 'costume' as her last song was what her mind was set on as she stepped onto the stage, her 'high school' band following right behind her.

"Hi," she spoke softly into her microphone, nervously adjusting her guitar strap. "Er... I know most of you may know me from the previous summers... or when I was in high school with some of you... but, anyway... I wasn't here the past summer, but I'm here now."

The crowd chuckled.

"But, I probably won't be here for the next event because I will be going away for... a while. So, I want to sing this last song, not only to close the night but also as my... _departing_ song."

Looking back at Herman, the drummer of her little band, then at Erick, the lead guitarist, then Frank, the bassist, and finally Samantha, the pianist, she nodded; she was only going to sing this time.

Erick began the first round before Ayden began to sing.

"_Insecure in her skin, like a puppet, a girl on a string..._" And the drum set joined the thing chords and beautiful vocals. "_Broke away, learned to fly― if you want her back, gotta let her shine_."

Her eyes wandered around the crowd as the song took on a transitioning note as it reached the short pre-chorus; there were many people she recognized― her friends Loris, Medina, Channelize, Lexi, Jeremy, Joe, George, Fabian, Charlie... Dinah and Max?

As her eyes continued to surf the crowd, she felt her insides freeze as they settled upon a pair of brown eyes, twin to her own.

Why was he here? He'd made it clear, those few weeks ago, that he would rather she'd die. She internally scoffed. She didn't care anymore.

"_Now it looks like the joke's on you... 'cause the girl that you thought you knew..._"

It was silent for a few seconds before all of the instruments, along with her voice burst loudly through the large speakers at each side of the stage.

"_She's so gone! That's so over now; she's so gone! You won't find her around..._" The crowd had become wild at this point, even though the band had only reached the first chorus. "_You can look but you won't see the girl I used to be, 'cause she... she's so gone!_"

Erick and Frank then jumped into a bridging, dueling solo, going to four rounds before Ayden jumped back in for the bridge.

"_Oh, she's so gone away like history! She's so gone! Baby, this is me, yeah..._"

The instruments toned down into another silence that lasted for another few seconds before jumping back into the last chorus.

"_She's so gone! That's so over now; she's so gone! You won't find her around... You can look but you won't see the girl I used to be... 'Cause she... She's so gone!_"

And the others sang in the background. "**That's so over now.**"

"_She's so gone!_"

"**You won't find her around!**"

"_You can look but you won't see the girl I used to be... 'Cause she... she's so gone._"

The music toned down into a lower volume as the song was ending.

"_So long; she's so gone. She's so gone... gone, gone, gone._"

The crowd erupted into the loudest applause Ayden had ever received in her entire life. Her bandmates all joined her upfront of the stage, and all bowed in gratitude at the cheer their performance received, though as they all walked down to join the people of the festival, they noticed Ayden was nowhere in sight.

_I will be going away for... a while..._

Were they ever going to see her again? They didn't know, but what they _did_ know was that Ayden was one of the best things that ever happened to them. If it hadn't been for her, Erick and Samantha would've never admitted their feelings to each other and started dating. If it hadn't been for her, Frank wouldn't have gone back to playing his one and only favorite instrument after he had an accident while performing once and had become disabled for, though temporarily, a very long time. Herman, if it hadn't been for Ayden, he would've never known that he was actually good at something when it came to music. If it hadn't been for Ayden, they would've never met and become the closest friends they currently were.

She was really something.

When November the Second finally came around, she left for the army. She started out in the Quebecor CFB Valcartier, being placed in the'12e Régiment blindé du Canada', or rather the '12th Canadian Armoured Regiment' and stayed there for a month before being transferred to an American installation in New York.

On December the fourth, she was shipped off to Kabul District, where she joined Camp Eggers, an American military camp that focused solely on NATO Training Mission-Afghanistan.

That was where her destiny began.

_**The End... sort of.**_


	4. Disclaimers

**Disclaimers**

This short story is a prequel to my Infinite Prequel. It shows what Ayden Jaubert went through before going to the army, and basically explains why she's afraid of falling in love or loving anyone for that matter in any way.

In the beginning of this short story, when Ayden is in her session with her psychiatrist, the answers I made her give, I helped myself with what Taylor Swift says in the beginning of her '**I knew you were trouble**' music video. I just changed a few things, made a few answers a bit longer, but, yeah, the beginning is basically similar, if not, practically the same, to what happened to Taylor in her music video, though for Ayden it was at a very young age.

For the flashbacks scenes, I helped myself with the movie '**A walk to remember**', and a few parts of an episode of '**Once upon a time**' (though I forgot the name of the episode... I think it was in the 4th season, though. With the Ice Queen...) Anyway, for the songs Ayden sang, the first one was from **Teen Beach 2**, by Ross Lynch: **On my own**. I just changed the lyrics a bit, as well as for the last song in the chapter 'Letting go', where she sang at the funeral; I sort of remixed two of Miley Cyrus' songs from **Hannah Montana Forever **(the last season) and changed a few words here and there. Then, in the part where she's in her room and sings with her past-self from a flashback, she sings a revamped version of 2017's **The Greatest Showman: A Million Dreams **_[2018 Edit— my original publication was June 9, 2016]_. The last song she sang was from the movie '**Lemonade Mouth**' by the band '**Lemonade Mouth**' sung by Naomi Scott. The rest was all me; I hoped you liked it, no matter how depressing it was!

Avy JC


	5. The Birth of a Legend - Sneak Peak

**Sneak Peak - Infinite (Marvel fan fiction) Prequel**

Elena's shocked gaze did not waver from where it rested upon the tired-looking brunette. "Y-you jumped after me," she stammered.

Ayden huffed. "I told you I'd protect you."

Elena shook her head, eyes still wide in disbelief as she brushed the wet hair away from her face. "You jumped off a damn plane, into the ocean... just for _me_." She paused as she watched the brunet slump onto the sand, exhausted. "You went back for me."

"I'll always go back for you. You fall, I'll catch you." Ayden, then, tilted her head to the side and looked at her with a tired, slightly close-eyed smile. "And it's like I told you: _when it comes to us, I'm in it for the long haul_."

Elena ginned back just as tiredly, remembering her telling her that the day they met. "Till the end of the line," she quoted, grabbing onto her best friend's hand.

"Till the end of the line," Ayden agreed, gently squeezing Elena's hand in return.


End file.
